


gentle this soul

by azurill



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, ellie and dina are engaged, he's old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurill/pseuds/azurill
Summary: Joel didn't think he'd get to grow old.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 110





	gentle this soul

To Joel, it seems like decades have passed since his room became his world — since talking became difficult, then walking, then breathing. His days pass by slowly, almost dreamlike. He doesn't know what to do with his hands now that they're not as useful anymore, and more than often not he finds himself displeased for not pulling his weight in the community he came to call home. They may say he’s contributed enough, but there’s always a house unfinished, a patrol plan undiscussed, a song unlearned. 

He’s doesn't lift his head from the pillow when Dina opens the door, too lost in his own mind to notice her entering the room. 

"Hey, old man." He gives a grunt as a response when she makes her presence known, fully aware his words often fall into a string of coughs, his breath rattled, barely there. Better not to talk. "I know you'd much prefer Ellie to be here, but all you've got for today is little old me."

There's a certain shame festering inside him. They shouldn't baby him so much. Ellie shouldn't come home terrified that she didn't get to say _goodbye_ — because it is coming, they know it is, even if he’s not struggling to live at the moment. When Joel was young, thinking about getting old was so terrifying he didn’t dare think much of it. When the outbreak happened, he didn’t think he’d get old at all. Death would come swift at the hand of a knife or the barrel of a gun if he was lucky and slow with infection if he wasn’t.

Nothing prepared him for blood-stained tissues and struggling to make his way to his own porch every morning. 

"You ain't that bad." She’s engaged to his daughter, after all. "You should've gone with Ellie.”

Dina smiles to herself, pushing a warm mug of herbal tea into his hands. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re way less annoying than she is.”

Ellie could’ve done worse than Dina. She still gets on his nerves sometimes, but she’s come a long way from the girl that sneaked inside their house and got involved in all kinds of trouble she could possibly get involved in the small town they live in.

A teenage crush he thought to be only from Ellie’s side grew into something larger than any of them could have predicted and he’s happy to have lived long enough to see Ellie grow up so well and have a family of her own — he rejoices more than he regrets his choices from decades ago, choices that led up to Ellie not dying at the young age of fourteen. She did so, _so_ much good. She can still do so much more.

The herbal tea is bitter when it hits his tongue. “I sleep a lot, kiddo.”

“Precisely,” Dina grins, then sobers up. “She’s coming back tomorrow. I miss her.”

Ellie’s been out in patrol the whole week, scouting a nearby abandoned town that may soon become new Jackson territory. She and Dina take turns between patrols, rarely leaving him alone at home, even though they had plenty of offers from neighbors and friends alike to fill their place.

He spends the rest of the afternoon with Dina as she sews some holes in Ellie’s clothing closed and when the sun sets and the front door creaks open, there’s a hint of a smile on his face as her face lits up instantly. 

Their conversation is cut short. It was rather one-sided to start with. Joel hears soft conversation coming from downstairs.

Silence—

Then more conversation.

There's the gentle stomping of Ellie's boots on the wooden floor as her footsteps get closer and closer until she’s on the doorframe with an apology on her tongue and a guitar case strapped to her back. "Sorry for taking so long."

He takes in her features, each one of them. Her short hair, her sharper eyes, the scar on her neck from when someone tried to cut her life short and failed. "Baby girl," he says with a certain amusement on his fragile voice. "You lost track of time.”

She laughs, and they exchange just a few words— as per usual, it’s how they work — before she plays an old, familiar song he taught her how to play so many years past. 

She sings.

He hums softly to her rhythm.

His lungs never really recover, but he lives.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm hoping to finish some short drabbles before the game comes out. kinda difficult when you got a hell of a creative block and your laptop won't stop turning off but hey. persistence pays off! hope u liked this <3


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